


Bloodshot

by chriskapeach



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27452218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chriskapeach/pseuds/chriskapeach
Summary: Recovering from a heart transplant, Elliot Stabler returns to service when a relative of a victim offers clues to identify a serial killer.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Bloodshot

**Author's Note:**

> This may be little OOC for you. Leave a review.

_**DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: SVU is owned by Dick Wolf. ** _

**Crime Scene, Night**   
**Manhattan, New York**   
**July 2016**

* * *

There was a media and spectator circus as two NYPD detectives, Amanda Rollins and Kat Tamin watch FBI Special Agent Elliot Stabler stride past the police barricades, wearing a FBI jacket, the federal officer ignore questions shouted out by the press. 

The words ‘code killer’ features prominently on their mouths. 

Elliot reaches to Rollins, “What do you got?” 

“Victims fix and six, he strikes again,” She said, grimace written all over her face. 

“You notify the Captain?”   
“She’s already inside, there’s more.” Kat said motioning her head. 

The place was dark, police work lights can’t quite the gloom. Elliot stops at the door with Rollins and Tamin, looking at the door that was half of it’s hinges, Olivia saw them and stood up walking towards them. 

“We got the remains of two, maybe even three more people,” Olivia said.   
“Give the new meaning of the term, gang bang.” Kat said earning her a elbow by Rollins. 

“Neighbor came over to complain about the noise, got run over at the door, didn’t see anything.” The captain said as Elliot walk past them. 

“We’re calling him Chuck Taylor,” He said looking around.   
“How’s that?” The blond detective asked. Elliot points out a series of bloody sneaker prints on the floor and away down the hall, “Converse Hi Tops, Chuck Taylor, Get it?” The detectives gave him a look as he continues in past them. 

As they survey the crime scene, Olivia motions Elliot to the wall, there, written in blood was a message for him. 

_Elliot Stabler, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!!! - 583_

“This is the tenth time he sent a message for you. What does he want?” Olivia asked, her voice laced with concern to her former partner. 

“Either he wants me dead or he wants me to kill him.” Elliot said as he exits the crime scene. 

As he stepped outside, the crowd has doubled. A news crew bursts the barricade, police rush to block them but to no avail, they almost ring him and started to fire off questions. 

“ _Was another message left for you, Agent?”_  
 _“Why do you think the killer picked you?”_  
 _“What does the numbers mean?”_  
 _“Do you know this person?”_

Elliot scans the sea of humanity before him. With a sigh, he starts to make his way through. But then, he stops. 

There was a man staring at Elliot, an odd look in his eyes, He looked at the man’s feet. covering them are bloody sneakers. Chuck Taylors. 

“Hey..Hey! over here!” He shouted towards the cops catching Olivia’s attention 

“He’s over here!” Elliot said. The man turns and goes, suddenly getting swallowed up by the crowd. 

“El!” Olivia called him out as he fought his way through the crowd and started to charge down the street after the man. 

“FBI, STOP!” Elliot screamed. The man look at his shoulder and sees the federal agent chasing him. 

“Elliot!” Olivia shouted. “SVU CO to Central, we’re pursuing a male, probably caucasian, wearing a black hoodie and a ski mask, west 50th, send a backup immediately!” She spat and started to catch up to Elliot and the man. 

The man turns into a dark alley, jumps into a eight feet fence and as he pulls himself, Elliot hits the fence behind him. 

The fence collapses and the two men sprawl into the ground. The man gets up and scoots away while Elliot rolls to his feet; the chase continues. 

Fences were scaled one after the next, Elliot reaches for the man’s shoulder; inches away now, the man looms ahead for the chain link, he leaps into it, catches hold, pulls himself up. Elliot is right behind him and catches one of the man’s legs, his bloodied sneaker slips away from his foot. 

The man grips the top of the fence, rears back with his free leg and kicks Stabler in the face, the agent drops into the ground but immediately gets back on his feet. 

As the foot chase goes on, Elliot pauses at the top of the fence and slides back down. He clutches at his left arm, a surprised look on his face. 

He was having a heart attack. 

He grips the fence to keep him from falling. The sound of his heartbeat intensifies and falls back into the dirt. 

Surprisingly, the man came back to watch him dying. Elliot reaches into his jacket, his hand comes back with a caliber .38 revolver, blinking through the blinding pain in his chest, he aims at the fence and starts shooting. 

The man immediately runs to the dark as round after round is shot, the fourth round sends the killer sprawling while the fifth and sixth round has him sail wide and stagger into blackness. 

Elliot’s spot was illuminated by a spotlight. The gun slips from his hand as the pain overwhelms him and as he stares up, he sees the NYPD helicopter hovering above him. 

Olivia finally found him and immediately cried for help. She drops to the ground and pulls him into her lap as everything around him turns black. 

* * *

  
**TWO YEARS LATER.**   
**MOUNT SINAI HOSPITAL**   
**September 2018**

“Almost there.” 

Sitting on a gurney, his head oddly-angled and in a brace, Elliot closes his eyes as the line enters his heart. 

“Coming out, Elliot. You did good.” His doctor, Dr. John Hassner said slowly removing the scope. He tapes a gauze compress to his neck then, unstraps the brace. Elliot rubs the kink in his neck, looking less than formidable in his hospital johnny. 

“Been taking pills every day?” The doctor asked.

“All thirty-four of them.” 

“No fever?” 

“Nope.” 

“How about diarrhea?” 

“I’m clean of that too.” 

“Blood pressure?” 

“Right on target.” 

“How about your boat? and your girlfriend?” 

“I’m keeping the boat afloat, Olivia doesn’t want to call her ‘my girlfriend.’” 

Dr. Hassner chuckled “Right, so i’ll see you in a bit. I want to check the blood work and get the tissue over to the lab.” 

“Okay.” 

A nurse wheels Elliot’s gurney down the hall. As they past one room, he looks over. 

A young boy is on the bed, his body tied by the tubes to a heart lung machine. A man in a suit, which Elliot thinks, was the boy’s father, sits at the foot of the bed. His eyes drift out into the hall looking straight at him. Elliot turns and looks away. 

He was already in a room and reading an old issue of Boat Restoration, a gift he received from Olivia’s son, Noah last Christmas when Dr. Hassner returned, holding a lab report. 

“Don’t start running laps yet, but I’m very pleased. No rejection, all the levels look good. I might lower your prednisone in another week.” 

Elliot sighed with relief “Good, I’m tired of shoving it three times a day.” 

The doctor smiles and warms his stethoscope with his breath, “lean forward, please.” 

He leans forward. The doctor pulls down his gown and starts listening to Elliot’s heart through his back. 

“Can I ask you something?”   
“Don’t talk. Now, sit up.” Dr. Hassner said as he listen to Elliot’s right through his chest. His thirteen-inch white scar running over his heart was showing. He half-grimaces at nothing in particular. 

“Good, what did you want to ask me?” The doc said placing the stethoscope at the table and writing something is his pad. 

“That boy in room 604, what’s his blood type?” 

The doctor raises his eyebrows and studies him for a beat, “It’s different than yours, If that’s what you think.” 

“How long has he been waiting?”   
“About half as long as you did.”   
“What are the chances?”   
Dr. Hassner shrugs, “Maybe fifty-fifty, maybe less. What’s bothering you, Stabler?” 

After a beat, Elliot spoke, “When I was in the NYPD and the bureau we had to qualify on the range every year. You know, shoot targets. Circle around the heart scores higher than the head. It’s called the ten ring. Highest score.” 

The doctor nods symphatetically. “Typical. you hang around almost two years waiting for a heart, draw your string out and nearly don’t make it and now you wonder if we should’ve given it to you. You know what that is?” 

Elliot quipped, “Bullshit?” 

Dr. Hassner chuckled “Exactly. Go home and enjoy your day with Olivia and your boat, I’ll see you next week.” 

* * *

  
**BENSON-STABLER RESIDENCE**   
**QUEENS, NY**

Elliot parks his car infront of their house and saw their next door neighbor, Terry Johnson playing harmonica in his patio. 

“Morning, Stabler.”   
“It’s quarter four in the afternoon, Johnson.”   
“Whatever, yo, Olivia welcomed a visitor in your house, by the way.”   
“Really?   
Terry nodded, “Mmhmm, been there ten minutes. Looked harmless, I didn’t call the police.” 

Elliot laughed, “Thanks, bud.” 

As he enters the household, Elliot saw Olivia talking to a woman who looks familiar to him. He cleared his throat catching Olivia’s and the woman’s attention. 

“Hi there, how’s the doc’s appointment?” Olivia said reaching for a hug.   
“Great, no rejections. Who is she?” 

The woman stands up, “Michaella Rivera, I read about you in a newpaper article—“   
“Look, before you start your story, I have to tell you that you’re not the first person to come out here and find me.” 

Rivers sighed, “My sister died the same night you got your heart.” 

Elliot’s mouth went open. Shocked, “Your sister.” 

Olivia place her hand on his chest and leans in. “I’ll leave you both to talk.” 

Mica looks at Olivia as the older woman makes her way to the kitchen then, turns into Elliot, she reaches for her purse and hands out a photo to him. 

A smiling woman watching a boy blow out seven candles on a birthday cake. The woman in the photo quite looks like Michaella. 

“Gracie Rivera, my sister, That’s her son, Jayson.” 

“I remember.” Elliot said. 

“Mr. Stabler–“ 

“Look, Mica, I just can’t do this. I’m sorry.” He said holding out the photo. She makes no move to take the photo, “Look at it again. Please, just–just one more time and then I’ll leave you alone. Tell me if you feel anything. 

Being the short tempered that he is, he gets irritated instantly, “I was an NYPD detective and FBI agent, not a psychic. Now, do you want this photo or not.” 

Mica looks at him, “I have a double. You know, two for the price of one. You’ll want to keep that one.” 

“Why would I want that?” 

Mica reaches out her hand past the photo Elliot is holding, she places the palm of her hand on his chest, runs it slowly down the front of his shirt, her fingers tracing the scar beneath it. 

“Your heart, It was my sisters,” and then continued, “My number’s on the back if you changed your mind,” and with that, Mica leaves. Elliot watches her go then, turns over the photo. A number was scrawled in the back.

* * *

**ELLIOT STABLER’S HOME OFFICE  
11:45PM **

The mercury rises and stops at 98.6 degrees. 

Elliot takes the thermometer out of his mouth and reads it, he picks up a pen and write on the white board. In a column, he add a series of dashes. No change. 

He looks in the mirror and studies his eyes and then pulls his t-shirt off. He then closed his eyes as he traces the scar with his fingers. A nightly ritual he always does since the transplant. 

He sits at the desk, turns on a light. Hanging from the light, a Lucite block which holds his FBI badge. Tacked on the corkboard beyond the desk, a laminated newspaper line-up of code killer victims. Under them; the last message the killer sent and the code 583. Elliot frowns at it and turns away.

Elliot lies besides Olivia staring up at the ceiling. Unable to sleep. Finally, he retrieves his watch from a slot beside their bed . The glow-in-the-dark hands read 3:29 AM.

A full moon shines down on at they night sky but deserted sight. Elliot dials the number on the back of the photo.

The call went straight to voicemail. Hi this Mica Rivers, please leave a message after a beat–

  
“Miss Rivera, it’s Elliot Stabler. I know it’s late, but I’m going to go see the police tomorrow and ask about this. Don’t thank me. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m just going to take a look. I owe your sister that much. Now...If you had a free time tomorrow, you can come with me so that you can give the police an information about Gracie. I hope I didn’t disturb your sleep. Goodnight and I’ll see you tomorrow if you had a chance.” 

* * *

**NYPD HOMICIDE SECTION  
THURSDAY   
9:00AM**

A cab pulls up out front and Elliot gets out, a box of doughnuts in hand. As he heads for the entrance, Elliot steps to a counter. A young detective named Walters steps over.

“Can I help you?”  
“Is Sergeant Amaro still here in homicide?”

“Your name?” The young detective ask.

“Elliot Stabler. Tell him it’s about the Gracie Rivera case.”  
  
The young detective punches three digits into a phone, whispers something as he looks at Elliot over.He hangs up.  
  
“Down the hall. First door on your right.”

Elliot has only gone a few steps when a solidly built man in a white shirt and tie steps in front of him. Gun in a shoulder harness, Amaro greets him 

“Elliot.”

“Nick.”

“I thought you had died, or at least retired. My guy up front said you’re here about Gracie Rivera?”

“That’s right. Is there a place where we can talk?”  
  
“Talk about what?” Amaro said 

“I’m looking into her death.” He said   
  
“Oh shit, here we go. Did Olivia knows what you’re doing?” Amaro asks. Elliot gives him a look. “You know your old partner.” 

“Damn, It’s the younger sister isn’t?”   
“How do you know about Michaella?” 

  
Amaro leads him in the interview room, motioning to Elliot to sit down. Amaro then calls the attention of one of his detectives, asking to bring him the case file of Gracie Rivera then closes the door behind him. “Mica called in three times in a row, asking if there’s a lead in a case. I told her the negative, she got mad and cursed on me in spanish.” 

Walter knocks on the door slowly opening it, He hands out to Amaro the files and immediately closes it. Amaro then opens it and gives it Elliot. 

“Two years ago, Some mope with a mask and a gun and had the right ratio of balls to brains entered The Rivera’s household, enter’s Gracie’s room then puts the gun in her temple and blow her brains out. The man–“ 

“Drag the body out of the room, causing him to leave a bloody trail of Chuck Taylors in the hallway, Her son saw it and the man shoot the son dead. Now I ask you why is this becomes a homicide when the perp raped her?” Elliot said. 

Amaro sits up and swallowed, “No traces of sexual assault found.”   
“Because she’s a immigrant? And she don’t matter?” 

“Elliot–“   
“Olivia doesn’t know about this right?” 

Nick sighed then nodded, “Yeah.” then continues, “Two months ago, A man wearing ski mask robbed a bodega in the bronx, Same MO, rapes his victim, blew her brains out and kills the witness. He even looks at the CCTV and said something, then shoots it. Never catch the guy.” 

“They ever bring a lip reader for it?”   
“You know, Bronx. They don’t care.”   
“You had a copy of the tape?”   
“Don’t tell Olivia.”   
Elliot chuckled, “Trust me, she won’t know.”   
  


* * *

**TECHNICAL ASSISTANCE RESPONSE UNIT  
ONE POLICE PLAZA, MANHATTAN, NY  
**

The screen flickers on. A black and white surveillance camera view of the counter of bodega store. Date and time line runs across the bottom of the screen. The frame is empty a few seconds until the counterman leans in over the register.He breaks open a roll of quarters  
  
Morales points out “that’s Kyungwon Kang, the owner.”  
  
As he closes the register, a woman steps up. She smiles as she sets a Hershey bar down on the counter. 

“Came in to buy a candy bar.” Morales said 

Elliot watch as the woman hands a dollar bill over, a man in a black ski mask and black jumpsuit moves up behind her. She’s still smiling as ski mask puts his right hand on her right shoulder and in one continuous move brings the muzzle of a handgun up to her temple, He drags the woman in a secluded area. Possibly raping her, then a minute later, he drags the woman again, now covered with blood, then shoots the bodega owner .

He looks in the camera. And said something, Morales scribbles it in his notepad an gave it to Elliot. 

I hope you’re still alive, Elliot Stabler. 

“You know the vic’s name?” Elliot asks, Ruben types something in his computer, “Jenny McClinton, 25. Lives in Brooklyn. Works as a bartender in her father’s bar.” 

Elliot nodded. “Thanks man.”   
  


* * *

**KANG’s BODEGA STORE  
BRONX, NY **

The cab pulls up and as he gets out, “Wait here.” 

Elliot enters, smiling over at the elderly asian woman behind the counter. The counter where Mr. Kang died. She doesn’t smile back.  
Elliot goes to the display racks full of candy and picks out a Hershey bar. He steps to the counter, and sets it down. As the woman rings it up, McCaleb looks up at the side were Jenny was raped and killed to the surveillance camera. He then hands the woman a dollar.

“Are you Mrs. Kang?”  
  
“Yes. I know you?” Mrs. Kang said curiously.   
  
“No, it’s just... I heard what happened here. To your husband. I’m sorry.” Elliot said, symphatetically.   
  
“Yes, thank you. The only way to keep evil out is to not unlock door. We can’t do that. We must have business.”

Elliot nods that he understands. As she hands him his change, he looks one more time at the surveillance camera, then once behind him. Playing the crime over in his head.

* * *

**BENSON-STABLER RESIDENCE  
QUEENS, NY **

The evidence is laid out in the kitchen counter. Both cases, crime-scene photos, etc. Elliot rubs his eyes, makes a note on legal pad. He then opens a Thomas Guide, begins tracking streets. When Olivia comes in, tired from work. 

“Perp confessed?” Elliot said cleaning out the counter as Olivia wraps her arms around his neck. Elliot kissed her cheek. 

“Forced him to confess before Fin throws him. Another life saved.” Olivia said. “You already had dinner?” 

“Noah requested for some spaghetti with meatballs, whines about how crappy his dance class is, finished his assignment and slept on it. “ Elliot said making Liv chuckled 

“I might enroll him in another dance class,” Olivia said taking the spaghetti container in the fridge to reheat it. “Mica, called in my office earlier.” 

Elliot raised his eyebrows, “What’s all about?” 

“Just checking in, I told her if she had time, She can come and have a dinner with us, I deeply symphatize with her, No living relatives, having her dining with us is the least I can do to ease her sadness.” Olivia said, now pouring a wine in her glass. 

Elliot nodded, suddenly mind goes blank. 

“Hey, you ok?”   
“Huh?”   
“You look tired, El. get some sleep, I’ll be fine here.”   
“You sure?”   
“Do you want me to drag your ass on the bed?”   
“No.”   
“That’s what I thought.” 

* * *

Mrs. Kang looks up from the register and smiles in an unfriendly way. Elliot stands across form her.

“You don’t deserve it.” Mrs. Kang said 

“What?” Elliot said   
  
Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder, the barrel of a revolver on his temple. Elliot turns to find the man in the ski mask. He lowers the gun to Elliot chest right into his heart.

_Bam!_

  
**TBC**


End file.
